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2026-10-16 07:03:00NIA POV
Unit 4B was finally starting to smell less like stale paint and cardboard.By Thursday afternoon, I had spent three straight hours wiping down the narrow laminate counters, sweeping the scratched floorboards, and organizing the small pile of clothes I’d brought from the penthouse. Up until today, I’d been living straight out of my two gray suitcases, as if unpacking completely meant accepting that this studio was my permanent reality.Setting up a home in a studio on 24th
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My One-Night Stand Turned Out to Be My Stepbrother 60
KINGSTON POVIt was past seven on Monday evening when the rest of the thirty-fourth floor went dark.My office was quiet, lit only by the pale glare of my dual monitors and the amber desk lamp sitting beside my coffee mug. The forty-million-dollar Vanguard Logistics Real Estate acquisition was forty-eight hours from final closing, and the board package was supposed to be completely sealed.I had spent the last two hours running a final line-by-line verification across the auxiliary balance sheets. Everything was clean—until I got to the back of the debt-restructuring rider.I zoomed in on Schedule 8-C.A three-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar allocation was listed as a "prior-period consulting liability adjustment." On paper, it was booked under standard transactional expenses. But when I cross-referenced the general ledger code, it didn't link to any external vendor or legal firm. It was routed back to an internal operations pool tied to Carter Global's seconda
My One-Night Stand Turned Out to Be My Stepbrother 59
NIA POVMy laptop screen lit up at 9:15 on Friday morning with the email I’d been waiting on all week.From: Daniel Price — Westbridge Creative Subject: Offer of Employment — Junior Marketing AssociateI held my breath, leaning over the small kitchen table in my studio. My eyes scanned the PDF attachment fast, skipping past the legal boilerplates straight to the compensation section.Fifty-two thousand a year. A ninety-day probationary period. Start date: Monday morning at 8:30 a.m.It wasn't the high-rolling executive salary I’d walked away from at Carter Global, and it certainly wasn't going to make me rich overnight. After taxes and rent on 24th Street, things were still going to be tight.But as I sat back in my chair, staring at my name printed beneath the corporate letterhead, tears pricked the corners of my eyes.I hadn't needed Victor Carter’s influence. I hadn't needed Kingston standing beside me to validate my talent. I had walked into that glas
My One-Night Stand Turned Out to Be My Stepbrother 58
KINGSTON POVThe front door of the penthouse felt heavier than I remembered.I stood in the carpeted hallway at six o'clock on Sunday evening, my key ring weighed down in my hand. I didn't use the key. Instead, I pressed the brass doorbell button and waited, my suit jacket unbuttoned over a navy sweater, my shoulders instinctively tensing.Refusing my father’s invitation would have been easy. It would have meant another night in my spotless downtown loft, eating takeout in front of my laptop. But living like a ghost wasn't solving anything, and running away from the wreckage wouldn't make me more of a man.The door swung open, and Dad stood on the other side.He had traded his corporate charcoal suit for a dark cardigan and slacks. He looked at me for two long seconds, taking in my presence before stepping aside."Kingston," Dad said, his voice deep and measured. "Come in.""Dad," I nodded, stepping over the threshold.The penthouse smelled of roasted
My One-Night Stand Turned Out to Be My Stepbrother 57
NIA POVUnit 4B was finally starting to smell less like stale paint and cardboard.By Thursday afternoon, I had spent three straight hours wiping down the narrow laminate counters, sweeping the scratched floorboards, and organizing the small pile of clothes I’d brought from the penthouse. Up until today, I’d been living straight out of my two gray suitcases, as if unpacking completely meant accepting that this studio was my permanent reality.Setting up a home in a studio on 24th Street didn't mean I was giving up on my future. It just meant I was tired of living out of a bag.I picked up the last cardboard box sitting in the corner by the kitchenette. It was small, taped shut hastily the night everything exploded. I pulled a pair of scissors from my kitchen drawer, sliced through the packing tape, and folded back the flaps.Inside were random odds and ends from my old desk at the Carter Global office and my nightstand at the penthouse: notebooks, spare pens, a b
My One-Night Stand Turned Out to Be My Stepbrother 56
KINGSTON POVMy father’s executive assistant didn’t call my desk phone very often. When she did, it usually meant someone was losing their job or a multimillion-dollar acquisition was about to go sideways.“Kingston,” Danielle’s voice came through the speaker at precisely 4:15 p.m. “Your father would like to see you in his office before you leave today.”“I’ll be right there,” I said.I saved my changes on the Vanguard Logistics Real Estate closing deck, closed the dual monitors, and stood up. I buttoned my suit jacket, adjusted my cuffs, and walked down the long, carpeted hall toward the corner suite on Floor 40.For three weeks, my interactions with Pop had been strictly operational. I gave him numbers; he gave me demands. He kept his distance, treating me less like his heir and more like a high-performing employee who had narrowly avoided termination.I knocked once on his heavy mahogany door.“Come in,” his voice boomed from inside.I pushed the d
My One-Night Stand Turned Out to Be My Stepbrother 55
NIA POVMy phone rang just as I was heating up a bowl of soup on Wednesday evening.I glanced at the screen, expecting Ava to check in about my second interview at Westbridge Creative, or maybe a text from Daniel Price about next steps. Instead, the display flashed a name I hadn’t seen lighting up my phone in nearly three weeks.Mama.My hand froze over the stove knob.For a second, the apartment felt entirely too small. The air caught in my throat, a sudden, sharp wave of nerves pulling my stomach into a knot. Since the night I walked out of the penthouse with my suitcases while she stood frozen by the floor-to-ceiling windows, we hadn’t spoken a single word.The phone vibrated again, the rhythmic hum rattling against the cheap laminate counter.I reached out, picked it up, and swiped to answer before I could talk myself out of it.“Hello?” I said, my voice barely louder than a whisper.Silence stretched across the line for a few agonizing second
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